Not A Last Resort
by WeasleyWannabee
Summary: What if Ron had asked Hermione to the Yule Ball before Krum, and "not as a last resort"? FLUFF! And, I realize, probably overdone. Ron's POV, R/Hr
1. Of Potions Homework and Yule Ball Dates

**A/N: I know this might be overdone, so read it if you want, but no pressure. ******

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 1: Of Potions Homework and Yule Ball Dates**

_"So, basically, you're going to take the best-looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?"_

_"Er— yeah, that sounds about right."_

_"I'm going to bed," Hermione snapped._

She stalked off in a huff, but I grabbed her wrist as she passed my chair. "Hermione, come on, I was kidding!" I said, laughing a little. Apparently this was the wrong thing to do, because she fixed me with a glare that would've stopped a raging Hippogriff in its tracks. I quickly arranged my face into a more sober expression and continued, "Do you really think I'd be that shallow?"

She considered me for a moment, then said indignantly, "Well, I would hope not!" She returned to her armchair and snatched up her Potions essay. Her quill scratched swiftly across the parchment, and the little impatient noises she made whenever she made a mistake indicated that her anger hadn't completely cooled.

I smiled to myself as I turned back to my own essay. It was true that we fought a lot, but sometimes Hermione was kind of funny when she was mad. _You know, when she's not about to bite my head off. _When I really thought about it, I'd never have thought I'd end up being best friends with someone like her. Granted, the circumstances of our friendship _were_ fairly unique. Not many people become friends after one of them accidentally locks a troll in with the other and then rescues her from it.

_It_ was _nice_ _to have a brilliant friend, though,_ I reasoned, frowning at my Potions essay. _Especially when Snape assigns us pointless stuff like "Name six practical uses of lacewing flies in potion-making." I mean, who cares?_ I raised myself slightly out of my seat, craning my neck to try and read Hermione's essay upside down.

She glanced up and narrowed her eyes at me. "Can I help you?" she asked frostily.

_Still mad at me. _"Er, no, just stretching," I said quickly, dropping back into my chair. _Guess I'll just have to do it the old-fashioned way,_ I thought, sighing and grabbing my Potions book. I looked up lacewing flies in the index, turned to the first set of pages listed, and began to read. After about five sentences, I realized I hadn't taken in anything written there. I gave up and stared into the fire.

_Not that I'm friends with her just because she helps me with homework,_ I reasoned, continuing my thoughts from earlier. _For one thing, there's no way Harry or I would have survived this far if not for her quick thinking under pressure. We'd have been strangled to death by that Devil's Snare in our first year. Even though she gets annoyed with Harry and me sometimes—okay, mostly me—that doesn't stop her from helping us out of trouble when we need it. And she's actually pretty fun to be around, when she isn't stressing about homework or nagging me about doing mine._ I considered this for a moment. _Actually, I wouldn't mind going to the Yule Ball with her. She's already seen my dress robes, so that's one less embarrassing moment. Plus, she probably suspects that I can't dance, so no pressure there either. And we'd just be going as friends, so it'd almost be like any other day. _Pleased that I wouldn't have to go through the trouble of finding a date, I decided to ask her right then, even if she was still a little irritated with me.

"Hey, Hermione," I said.

She looked up. "Yes?" To my delight, she sounded much less upset than earlier.

"I was wondering if you'd want to go to the Yule Ball with me," I said, mentally crossing my fingers.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I'm far from being the best-looking girl in the school," she replied.

I rolled my eyes. "Come on, no you're not." For some reason, she blushed slightly when I said this. "So, will you go with me?"

"Yeah, okay," she said, and returned to her essay with a slight smile playing around her mouth.

"Great," I said happily, leaning back in my chair. I glanced at Harry, and was surprised to find him looking at me shrewdly. "What?" I asked, confused.

"Nothing," he replied quickly, bending over his charms homework with a smile.

I looked from him to Hermione, shrugged, and returned to my Potions reading.


	2. Of Viktor Krum and Shrunken Teeth

**Chapter 2: Of Viktor Krum and Shrunken Teeth**

Having a date for the Yule Ball took a surprising amount of pressure off in the next couple of weeks. I realized that the whole thing was actually quite funny—those who didn't have dates rushed around in a kind of panic, as though their partner would make or break the rest of their time at Hogwarts.

"This ball thing is more trouble than it's worth," I muttered to Harry as we passed yet another gaggle of giggling girls on our way to Transfiguration the day before the ball.

"Tell me about it," he replied, a worried note in his voice. "I have to open the dance, and I'm going to look pretty ridiculous dancing with myself!"

"You'll find someone to go with," I assured him. "I mean, look at all of the offers you've gotten already!" I said, struggling not to laugh. Just that morning, he'd been approached by a towering sixth year girl who had looked like she'd knock him out if he refused her. Luckily, though, she had merely shrugged when he'd said no. I still sort of suspected she'd only asked him on a dare.

Harry glared at me. "Not funny, Ron."

"Alright, sorry; I couldn't resist. Seriously, though, is there someone you're thinking of asking?"

Harry shrugged, a dull flush rising in his cheeks.

"Aha! There _is_ someone! Who? No, wait, I know—Cho, right?"

Harry nodded. Then he sighed. "Not that she'd want to go with me."

"Well, how do you know if you don't ask her? Might as well take a chance. What's the worst that could happen?"

Harry raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Yeah, easy for you to say."

I thought for a minute. _He could go with Hermione; I'm sure she wouldn't mind. I mean, he's right—he needs a date more than I do._ When I voiced these thoughts, however, Harry shook his head. "Thanks, but you asked her first. Don't worry about it; like you said, I'm bound to find _someone_ to go with."

* * *

After Transfiguration, Hermione, predictably, headed to the library.

"What do you need to go there for, exams were cancelled because of the Yule Ball," I yelled after her, knowing that it would do no good.

Just as I'd suspected, she simply waved and said she'd meet us at lunch. Harry and I headed into the Great Hall and began filling our plates. When Hermione joined us, she didn't say anything, but sank onto the bench with a funny look on her face.

"What's up, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Viktor Krum just asked me to the Yule Ball," she replied.

I choked on my pumpkin juice. Coughing and spluttering, it took me a few seconds before I could respond to this shocking news. "What?" I finally managed, hoarsely.

"Yeah, he said he'd been coming to the library everyday, hoping to see me there, but it took him a few times to work up the courage to ask me." She sounded as stunned as I felt.

"Well, that's kind of disturbing," I said. "Not him asking you, but the fact that he'd been _watching_ you."

Hermione glared at me. "I think it's kind of cute, actually. I mean, he's this famous Quidditch player, yet he has trouble asking out girls."

For some reason, my insides boiled at this. I tried to keep my voice calm as I spoke. "Fine, go with him if you want, then."

Hermione frowned. "But I'm already going with you."

I shrugged. "Well, it's not like we're dating. I could find someone else to go with."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're forgetting that I'm not as mean as you, "she replied, though not harshly. "Besides, I already told him I was going with someone else."

"Whatever," I said, though I was secretly pleased that she wanted to go with me over Viktor Krum. "You know, he was probably only going with you to get inside information on Harry," I reasoned.

Hermione gave me a withering look. "Yes, I am sure that was it," she said sarcastically. "Honestly, Ron, why are you determined to find fault with him? I thought he was your hero."

"Dunno," I replied. "I'm just trying to figure out why he'd ask you of all people, that's all." I realized too late how that sounded. "Wait, that came out wrong," I said, seeing the shocked and hurt look on Hermione's face. "I just meant it was strange that he wouldn't ask someone from his own school, that's all."

"So, what were you doing in the library, anyway?" Harry asked. I mentally thanked him for taking charge of the conversation to save me from embarrassing myself further.

"Just reading," Hermione replied, shrugging.

"For fun?" Harry asked, sounding slightly horrified.

"Yes," Hermione answered, as though this was perfectly normal. "Some people do that, you know."

"No, I'm pretty sure only you do," I said.

Hermione just smiled. I frowned. Something was different about her smile that I couldn't quite place.

"What?" she asked uneasily.

"Nothing," I replied. "It's just . . . did you do something to your teeth?"

Hermione gave me a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"Your front teeth look . . . smaller," I decided.

She smiled mischievously. "Do you remember when Malfoy hit me with that tooth-lengthening spell?"

_Clearly._ "I don't think I'm likely to forget it for a while, why?"

"Well, when I went to Madame Pomfrey to shrink them, she gave me a mirror and told me to stop her when my teeth were back to normal. I just let her carry on a bit. My parents wouldn't let me do it myself; since they're dentists, they believe anything concerning teeth should be done the Muggle way."

I shook my head. "You know, sometimes I think Harry and I have had a bad influence on you."

Hermione just smiled again.

**A/N: I don't have my fourth book, so I couldn't check this, but I'm pretty sure that Durmstrang is an all-boys school. At least, that's how they portray it in the movie. Anyway, I decided that for this story it wasn't, so just roll with it, okay?**


	3. Of Rejected Offers and Christmas Morn

**Chapter 3: Of Rejected Offers and Christmas Morn**

That night, I was attempting to write yet another Potions essay and Hermione was helping Ginny with her Charms homework when Harry came into the common room, looking depressed. He let his bag slide off his shoulder to the floor and threw himself into an armchair.

"What's up with you?" I asked.

"Just asked Cho Chang to the ball, but she said she's already going with Cedric Diggory." He slumped further down in his chair with a sigh.

"Bad luck, mate," I said sympathetically. Suddenly, an idea struck me. "Hey, why don't you go with Ginny?"

Ginny blushed fiercely and replied, "I can't; Neville asked me earlier today, and I figured that since I wasn't in fourth year, I probably wouldn't be able to go otherwise, so I said yes."

"You're going with Neville?" I said in disbelief.

Hermione glared at me. "And what is wrong with having Neville for a partner?" she asked icily.

I looked from her to Ginny; Hermione continued to glare at me, Ginny just looked miserable. "Well, come on," I said with a half-laugh, "it's _Neville_! I mean, he's just—er—he . . ." I trailed off, quailing under Hermione's stony gaze.

She turned to Ginny. "I think it's great that you're going with him, Ginny."

Ginny didn't reply. "I think I'm going to bed," she mumbled, and headed towards the girls' dormitory.

Just then, Parvati and Lavender entered the common room. Harry straightened in his chair, frowned at them for a minute, and suddenly walked over to them with a determined look on his face. He spoke first to Lavender—she responded in between giggles. I rolled my eyes. Girls really could be quite ridiculous sometimes. Then Harry turned to Parvati. I saw her nod and he returned to his seat beside me. I raised my eyebrows questioningly at him.

"I just asked Parvati to the ball. She said yes," he explained.

"Great! Told you you'd find someone."

Harry just nodded. He didn't seem too pleased; I figured he was still upset about Cho.

The rest of the night passed in silence; Harry stared dejectedly into the fire and Hermione was, once again, not speaking to me. _Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to ask her to the ball,_ I thought ruefully. _I'll just have to try harder to stay on her good side until it's over. _ I looked over at her rigid form; she hadn't so much as glanced in my direction since Ginny left. _Though I may have messed up any chance of that already._

* * *

The next day, Hermione seemed have forgiven me; at any rate, she was speaking to me again. Maybe since it was Christmas, she'd decided to forget about my latest display of insensitivity. Anyway, after Harry and I were rudely awakened by Dobby and had opened our presents, we met her in the common room to head down for breakfast. She greeted us with a cheery 'Happy Christmas' and asked if we were looking forward to the ball tonight. We just looked at her in disbelief.

"Come on Hermione," I said, "when has any member of the male species ever looked forward to a _dance_?"

"Thanks a lot," she snapped.

"Well, I'm glad to be going with you and all; you're far less giggly and annoying about this kind of stuff than basically every other girl in the school." Hermione looked pleased. "But I hate dancing, and I'm _really_ not looking forward to wearing my dress robes. Or perhaps just 'dress' would be more appropriate."

"They're not that bad," Hermione assured me. I appreciated the sentiment, but we'd have to agree to disagree on that one. "And I'm not much of a dancer myself, so I don't mind skipping out on most of that."

I grinned at her. "You know, you may just be the best date ever."

Hermione beamed; Harry glared at both of us. Hermione's smile slid off her face when she caught sight of the look in Harry's eyes. "Harry, it's really not—" she began in a placating tone, but Harry held up a hand to cut her off.

"Let's just go to breakfast," he said despondently.

* * *

Christmas continued in its normal lazy way until after lunch, when the tension and excitement surrounding the Yule Ball that evening became palpable. Girls were whispering and giggling in small groups all around the common room. They kept shooting furtive glances at the boys, many of whom looked like they had just been sentenced to three years in Azkaban. For some reason, I was beginning to feel nervous myself. To expend some energy, I rounded up Harry, Fred, and George for a snowball fight out in the grounds. After some deliberation, Hermione decided to join us. We all wrapped up in hats, mittens, and scarves and trooped out into the weak winter sunshine. Two hours before the ball was scheduled to begin, Hermione said she had to leave to get ready.

"You need _two hours_?!" I yelled after her disbelievingly as she made for the castle doors. She just waved and disappeared through them. I continued to stare after her in shock, and paid for my lapse in concentration with a snowball to the head from George.

Once it became too dark to aim properly, the four of us followed Hermione back into the castle. The Gryffindor common room was nearly empty; everyone was preparing for the ball. I sighed as I followed Harry upstairs to our dormitory. In a last ditch attempt to make my dress robes more presentable, I used a Severing Charm to cut off the lace around the cuffs and collar. The result was hardly better—the ends were now frayed and ragged-looking. _Oh well,_ I thought as I pulled them on. _It's just Hermione—she doesn't care about stupid things like clothes. _Still, I dreaded the taunting from my fellow students. To his credit, Harry didn't laugh when he saw me in my full dress robe splendor. I eyed his dark green robes enviously. Noting the direction of my gaze, he clapped me on the shoulder.

"Come on, it's only a few hours, and then it'll all be over. Anyway, it doesn't matter what I look like; I'm still going to make a prat of myself dancing in front of everyone."

This perked me up considerably. "Yeah, you're right." I grinned at him. "Have fun!"

He rolled his eyes. "Thanks. Okay, let's get this over with."

We headed down into the common room to wait for Parvati and Hermione. Parvati arrived shortly, wearing dress robes of shocking pink and gold bangles at her wrists. Dean sidled over to Harry and whispered, "I still don't know how you managed to get the best-looking girl in our year."

Harry shrugged; clearly, he didn't think that this was anything to get excited about. As Parvati reached us, he turned to me. "Is it alright if we head down? We're probably supposed to line up with the other Champions and I wouldn't want to be late."

I nodded. "Yeah, that's fine. See you in there."

"See you," Harry replied glumly. Parvati grabbed his arm and practically dragged him through the portrait hole. I grinned after them, glad that my night promised to be much better. I turned back to the girls' dormitory stairs just as Hermione was descending them. I swear my heart skipped three beats at the sight of her. Her hair was swept up into an elegant bun at the back of her head with a couple of curls hanging loose around her face and her dress robes were made of a periwinkle blue gauzy material. She paused at the base of the stairs and scanned the room. When she saw me, her face split into a huge smile, and I wondered distantly how I hadn't noticed the change in her teeth until a couple of days ago. In short, she looked absolutely stunning.

I just stared as she approached me, my mouth hanging open. "Wow," I whispered. Then I shook myself. _Come on, Ron, pull it together! What is wrong with you? _I clamped my mouth shut and smiled at her. "Hey," I said, and winced as my voice came out in a squeak. Hermione didn't seem to notice, however. I cleared my throat and tried again. "You look really nice, by the way." _Keeping it casual, yet complimenting her at the same time. Nice._

"Thanks," she replied. She bit her lip.

"You don't have to tell me I look nice, because I know that would be a lie," I assured her hurriedly.

She laughed, and I realized I had never fully appreciated how nice her laugh was. "No, you look fine," she said, and I appreciated the lie anyway. We stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, then she gestured at the portrait hole. "Ready?"

I nodded. Was I ever.


	4. Of Delightful Decorations and Fabulous F

**A/N: Just to clear up something from the last chapter that I got a couple of questions about: When Harry glared at Ron and Hermione after Ron said that she was probably the "best date ever," he wasn't upset that they were going together. He was just jealous that they'd actually have fun at the ball, whereas he was upset about not going with Cho and worried about having to dance in front of everyone.**

**Ok, sorry to slow you down, time to move ahead....  
**

**Chapter 4: Of Delightful Decorations and Fabulous Feasts**

_Wait, what am I saying?! No, I am not ready! What just happened? I mean, am I actually—no, calm down, you're probably just nervous because . . . well, there's really only one possible explanation, and that can't be true. Can it? _I took a deep breath, trying to calm the inner battle that was waging in my head.

"Ron? Hello?" Hermione's voice broke through my mild panic.

I blinked at her a few times and opened my mouth to reply, but no sound came out.

Hermione looked at me with a mixture of concern and annoyance on her face. "I just repeated myself three times, and you didn't answer. Are you okay?"

_Okay, stop acting like an idiot!_ "No—I mean, yes, I am. I'm fine. Sorry. Er, what did you say?"

"I asked if Harry and Parvati had gone down already."

"Yeah, they left right before you came down to the common room." _And right before I completely lost my mind_, I added silently.

Hermione nodded. "Did he seem nervous? I mean, he has to dance in front of everyone; I'd be nervous."

"Yeah, I think he was," I said, and I couldn't help but smirk at the thought of Harry opening the dance.

Noticing my smirk, Hermione shook her head. "You are a bad friend," she chided teasingly.

"What? You have to admit, it _is_ going to be kind of funny," I retorted.

Hermione just rolled her eyes and we continued on in silence. To my relief, my nerves seemed to settle as we reached the Great Hall, where we were greeted by a torrent of noise and laughter. I caught Harry's eye as we walked past the four Champions and their dates queuing up outside. I winked and gave him a thumbs up—he just grimaced back at me.

The House tables had been removed and in their place were several smaller tables, each with a floating blue candle and a bouquet of white roses at its center. Half of the Hall had been cleared for a dance floor, and the Weird Sisters were setting up instruments on a raised stand near the back of the Hall. The staff table had been draped with a blue and gold velvet cloth and, like the smaller tables, had blue candles and roses placed at intervals along it. Dumbledore was already seated in his center chair as usual, with Madame Maxime and Igor Karkaroff on either side of him. Next to Karkaroff sat Fudge, and beside him—I had to squint to make sure I wasn't mistaken—was Percy. _Didn't know he was going to be here._ I scanned the table again, and saw no sign of Mr. Crouch. _Perce must be here to represent him. God, he must be _loving _that,_ I thought with disgust. I figured that the rest of the empty seats must be for the Champions and their dates.

"Ron! Hermione!" I turned and saw Ginny waving at us from a nearby table. Hermione and I made our way over and sat down next to her and Neville. We were soon joined by Seamus, Lavender, Dean and his date, who I thought I recognized as a Ravenclaw fourth year. They greeted us and then went back to the conversation they had apparently been having on the way to our table.

"Do you know why Percy's here, Ron?" Ginny asked me.

"I think he's here in Crouch's place. You know, since Crouch is ill and all."

Ginny nodded. Then she said with a grimace, "I'll make sure I avoid him tonight then, because I'm sure he'll be bursting to brag about how much Mr. Crouch must _trust_ him to give him this _important_ job." She rolled her eyes.

Soon after this the Champions made their grand entrance to much applause and cheers. Dumbledore stood up, said a few words of welcome, and then announced that the feast was to begin.

I looked eagerly back at my plate, sure that the food would be just as amazing as the start-of-term feast in order to impress our foreign guests. To my disappointment, no food had magically manifested itself on my plate. I looked around, and everyone seemed to be frowning and whispering in confusion. I looked at Hermione. "What are we supposed to do?"

"How should I know?" she responded.

"Uh oh, this _is_ bad," I said with mock terror, "if _you_ don't know!"

Hermione smacked me lightly on the arm. "I'm sure if we just . . ." she looked closely at Dumbledore, and I followed her gaze. He already had food on his plate, so I scanned the rest of the table. I noticed that Harry was holding some sort of pamphlet in his hand, and as I watched, he looked down at his plate and said something. Immediately, food appeared before him.

I looked back at my table and realized there was a small menu to the left of my plate that I hadn't noticed before. I glanced through it, looked down at my plate, and said clearly, "pork chops." And voila, my selection appeared before me. I looked up to see that Hermione had worked out how to order as well. I grinned triumphantly at her, and she smiled back. My stomach did a back-flip and I could feel my ears start to redden. _Okay, this has _got _to stop!_ I thought as I quickly shifted my gaze to my food and began to eat.


	5. Of Magical Music and Goodnight Kisses

**A/N: Bonus points to anyone who notices the A Very Potter Musical reference in this chapter! And if you have no idea what I'm talking about, you need to stop reading RIGHT NOW and go to youtube to watch it! Seriously, it will be the best decision you've ever made.**

**Chapter 5: Of Magical Music and Goodnight Kisses**

Ginny, Neville, Hermione and I talked as we ate, discussing the welcome cancellation of exams—Hermione wasn't quite so enthusiastic about this topic—and speculating on what the second task of the Triwizard Tournament might be. After a while, silence fell at our end of the table, and I cast about for something to say. My gaze fell on Hermione's smooth hair.

"How'd you get your hair like that?" I asked her.

"Sleakeasy's Hair Potion," she answered. "I almost didn't recognize myself when I was done putting it up, but I think I like it."

I nodded in agreement. "It's beautiful," I said without thinking. _Did I just say that?!_ Immediately, my ears turned red, and I swallowed hard. "I mean—uh—" I saw Dumbledore rise from his seat, and could have kissed him when he called for quiet and Hermione turned towards the high table, saving me from having to complete my sentence.

I watched as the Champions took to the dance floor. Harry did a perfectly adequate job of directing Parvati across the floor, and though I knew it was horrible to admit, I was a _little_ disappointed. However, my thoughts soon turned to more pressing matters—namely, WHAT THE HECK WAS WRONG WITH ME!! _I mean, this is _Hermione_ we're talking about. As in, my best friend. So why am I suddenly stumbling over my words, telling her she's beautiful, and getting all giddy when she smiles at me?! It's like I'm in—in . . .OH MY GOD, I'M IN LOVE WITH HERMIONE!_ I quickly looked around, afraid I'd thought that last bit so loud that someone had heard it. Then I realized how absurd that was, and snorted at my own ridiculousness.

Hermione looked back at me. "What's so funny?"

Obviously, I could _not_ tell her what I'd just been thinking, so I quickly scanned the room for something amusing to comment on. My eyes were drawn to Fred and Angelina, who were dancing so boisterously that those around them were backing away swiftly. I actually did laugh when I saw this, and pointed them out to Hermione. "I should've known Fred would dance like that."

Hermione laughed too. "Oh dear, they're going to hurt someone!"

"Or themselves."

We watched them for a bit before Hermione turned and gave me with a calculating look.

"What?" I asked apprehensively.

She smiled. "Want to dance?"

"I thought you said you wanted to skip that part."

"I said I wouldn't mind skipping _most_ of it. But it is a ball, after all." I smiled a little at the rhyme. "So, do you?" she pressed.

_No, absolutely not, no way!_ But . . . "Sure," I heard myself say, to my horror.

Hermione beamed and pushed back her chair. I rose to my feet as well, and she grabbed my hand as we walked onto the dance floor. My stomach turned over again at her touch. When we reached a relatively empty space, she turned to face me. I just stood there, unsure what do to next.

"You know I have no idea what I'm doing, right?"

"That's okay, neither do I, really. We'll just make it up."

_Um, okay?_ But it turned out to be fine. The song was fast and therefore required minimal touching, which was fine with me at this point. However, the next song was a much slower waltz. _That _would _have to happen right now,_ I thought, my heart beginning to pound. I thought about asking Hermione if she wanted to go back to our table. But I _did_ actually know how to waltz—nothing beyond the basic steps—because mum had insisted I learn before my cousin's wedding a couple of summers ago. _Well, here goes nothing._

"Shall we?" I extended my hand.

Hermione placed her hand in mine, and my free hand came to rest on the middle of her back. As I began to lead her around the dance floor, she looked at me in surprise.

I grinned. "Yeah, I guess I lied earlier—I am actually awesome at dancing."

Hermione laughed. We continued dancing in silence, and I wondered whether I should tell her how I felt about her. _Even though I just discovered it myself. _Part of me wanted to blurt it out to get it over with, but a bigger part feared her reaction. _She has absolutely no reason to feel the same way. We're almost constantly fighting, and I haven't exactly been the best friend at times. We didn't speak to each other for about two months straight last year, and I know I've made her cry more than once. And even if she was able to disregard all of that, it's not like I'm anyone special. I mean, I'm not brilliant like she is, or a brave as Harry._

_On the other hand, if I _don't _tell her, I'll always wonder if maybe I should have. But if I tell her and she doesn't feel the same way, things could get really awkward, and I _definitely _don't want to lose her as a friend._

I sighed. Hermione frowned at me and cocked her head to the side. "Something wrong?" she asked.

"What? Oh, no, I was just . . . thinking."

"About what?"

"About—er—well, it's not really that important."

Hermione raised an eyebrow but didn't press me further. The song ended then, and the Weird Sisters announced that they'd be taking a five minute break. Hermione and I returned to our table, Hermione casting sideways glances at me as we walked. When we'd sat down, she turned to me.

"You're oddly quiet tonight; are you sure you're okay?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, I'm just . . ."

"Just what?"

I was on the verge of confessing everything, but couldn't quite make myself do it. "Never mind."

Hermione gave me a suspicious look. "It's unlike you to be so secretive and brooding," she teased.

I smiled. I noticed that she had a bit of hair stuck to her lip, and without thinking I reached over to brush it away. As though it had a mind of its own, my hand remained resting against her cheek. Hermione's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't pull away.

I gulped. "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Do you want something to drink?" I blurted out, pulling my hand back. Barely waiting for her to answer, I practically leaped up from the table and hurried towards the refreshments table. _Why couldn't I just tell her?! She didn't pull away, which was a good sign, right? _I sighed. _Well, forget my inner debate earlier, because the true argument is that I'm just too cowardly to do anything about it._

When I reached the refreshments table, I glanced back to where Hermione was sitting. To my relief—at least, to the relief of my cowardly self—Neville and Ginny had returned to our table. I grabbed four butterbeers and went to join them.

"Hey, Ron," Ginny greeted me.

"Hey Ginny, Neville. Butterbeer?"

They each took the proffered drink with murmured thanks. As I handed one to Hermione, she blushed slightly and quickly looked away. Another little spark of hope flared in me. _I should have said something earlier when I had the chance. I can't do it now with Neville and Ginny here._

I was suddenly impatient for the ball to end, so I could speak to Hermione alone. I resolved to tell her everything, though I wasn't entirely sure I wouldn't just chicken out again. I was so preoccupied with my new resolution that could barely concentrate on Ginny, Neville, and Hermione's conversation. I didn't say much, but instead went over different scenarios in my head, trying to decide how best to tell Hermione how I felt. I still half-feared that it would end disastrously, but I kept reminding myself of the positive signs—she'd agreed to go to the ball with me, she'd seemed pleased and a little embarrassed when I'd complemented her, and she was definitely flustered after our most recent exchange.

Finally, people began to filter out of the Great Hall. Neville asked Ginny for one more dance, but to my relief Hermione said she was ready to go back to Gryffindor tower. We walked to the common room in silence; all the while I tried to make myself say something, but my voice seemed to have frozen somewhere around my throat.

At the foot of the girls' staircase, Hermione turned to me. "Tonight was fun," she said. "I'm glad you asked me."

"Me too," I agreed. I paused. I couldn't do it after all. "Well, goodnight," I said, mentally kicking myself for my cowardice.

"'Night."

She started to climb the stairs, stopped, and walked back down to me. "I have to ask: What happened earlier, before you went to get drinks?" She said all this in a rush, and had turned a brilliant shade of red by the time she finished. To her credit, however, she looked me straight in the eye the entire time. "There was a moment when I thought . . ."

Without thinking about it I leaned in and kissed her swiftly on the lips. When I pulled back, I was blushing just as furiously as Hermione and was relieved to see that she was smiling. We stared at each other for a few seconds; neither of us seemed to know what to say.

I cleared my throat. "So—er—goodnight, then."

"Good night, Ron." Hermione replied.

I turned and started towards my dormitory, grinning like an idiot and not caring who saw it.

**A/N: Ok, that's it! Hope you liked it, and for those of you who have reviewed, thank you! And as always (you know, since you've done this all of two times), thank you to my beta Relik for ensuring that my stories don't suck plot-wise or gramatically!**


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